Lies
by jessica k malfoy
Summary: At the end of the term, Ginny finds herself in the possession of Draco Malfoy. He swears he is saving her. As the days pass by, she still doesn't believe him, but slowly she begins to understand him.
1. Chapter 1

Ginny didn't know what hit her.

For the past several weeks, Draco Malfoy had made his presence known, popping up in corridors when she was alone, watching her during meal times, and finally, during the last week of her 6th year, joining her for her nightly prefect's watches. He fell into step beside her as she pushed open doors and deducted points from misbehaving students.

He never said anything, not even when she demanded to know what in the bloody hell he was doing; he just watched her from underneath heavy eyelids, and that unnerved her.

"What are you doing?" she asked in surprise on the first night.

"Walking," was his short answer.

She was taken back at his voice, realizing that he had rarely spoken directly to her before. He had always flung his insults at the Trio, never at her. "Did you need something?" she pressed, her curiosity getting the best of her.

Her glared at her, not in a cruel way, but in a way that signaled the end of the conversation.

The next night she asked again, but this time he said nothing at all, and she suddenly felt vulnerable beside him. He was at least eight inches taller than her, and although he gave the appearance of being thin, one sideways glance at his arms told her otherwise.

The third night she snapped, "Would you mind telling me why you're stalking me?"

Again, he didn't answer, so Ginny gave up asking.

On the last night of her watch, the day before she left Hogwarts for the summer, he looked at her and said, "You're in danger. Your whole family's in danger."

Ginny turned to stare at him. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me," he muttered.

"And why should I believe you?"

"I think I would know."

"So, you stalk me for a week, and then you expect me to believe you? Let me guess, we should all come hide at your place?" she snorted.

Draco stared at her with his ice colored eyes for a moment. "Are you forgetting who my father is?"

"No. I'm remembering. That's why I'm not believing you."

He sighed loudly. "Why would I lie to you?"

"Why not?" she demanded. "I have no reason to trust you."

"Have I ever lied to you?"

"Have you ever spoken to me before?"

"I'm trying to help you."

"I'm sorry, but why in the bloody hell would you want to help me? You've never been anything but a pain in the arse!"

Draco took a deep breath, and in the dim light of the hall, Ginny could see two identical dark pink splotches appearing on his cheeks. "Didn't you ever wonder who sent you all those flowers? Valentine's presents? The Christmas presents?"

Ginny stared at him. Of course she had wondered. The large, unsigned bouquets, the chocolates, the necklace she was currently wearing, the fancy quills and expensive inks, the black velvet winter cloak she absolutely loved. She had several guesses for secret admirers, but he was not one of them. "I don't believe you. Why would you send me gifts?"

Draco opened his mouth to speak and then stopped and shook his head. "Just listen to me. You need to get away from here, out of England. Go on a holiday this summer."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Did you suddenly forget that I'm a Weasley? I have a big family and we're poor, remember? We can't just take a holiday whenever we feel like it!" She shoved the set of enchanted classroom keys into his hands. "I'm going to bed. You can finish this up."

She turned on her heel and stomped away from him, her mind reeling.

From behind her, she heard him softly say, "I'm sorry."

"For what?" she snapped, whirling around.

"For this. _Imperio."_

The world suddenly changed. It was like being in a dream; a dream where she knew that she was dreaming, but couldn't wake up.

"I'm sorry," Draco told her again, stepping in front of her. "I'm just trying to keep you safe."

Deep inside, she wanted to scream, to hit him, to kill him if she could, but she just stood there, frozen, staring at him.

"Listen," he said, rubbing his temples with his thumbs. "Go back to your dorm, do all the things you normally do, and tomorrow, before the train gets to the Platform, you come find me."

Ginny felt her body turn and begin to walk off.

"I'm sorry," he called again.

Ginny went back into the Gryffindor Tower, and when Hermione called to her, she walked to the table, smiled at the trio, and sat down, just like she always did. Ginny felt like a very tiny person was fighting inside of her. It was so small, it was almost unnoticeable, but it was there. The real Ginny was screaming and crying and no one was noticing. In fact, she barely even noticed.

She talked to them just like she always did, played a game of Exploding Snap with Hermione, laughed as Harry and her brother chased the younger students out of the good chairs by the fire for the last time, and then went to bed, just like she always did.

She fell asleep easily, and dreamed about nothing.

The next morning was hustle and bustle, with trunks being magicked out of the Houses and animals being given back to the owner, students searching for their one missing item, it was only when Ginny dashed down to the Great Hall to grab some fruit for breakfast and caught a glimpse of Draco that the real Ginny was able to surface for a moment.

_"No!"_ she heard herself screaming inside her head. _"Fight this! Don't let him do this to you!"_

Draco looked at her, his face vacant and expressionless, but his cold eyes betraying him. He nodded at her ever so slightly, and the curse took over again.

Ginny scooped up an apple, an orange, and a handful of pecans and headed back to her dorm, just like she always did at the end of every school year.

On the Hogwarts Express, Ginny left the trio alone and sat with her friends, just like always. Deep inside, she had the vague, uncomfortable feeling that her body was on auto pilot. When they spoke to her she replied, appearing interested in their conversations, and no one suspected a thing. The real Ginny was screaming with fear and desperation.

As if a switch inside of her had been flipped, just before the train reached the platform, Ginny involuntarily stood to her feet and went to find Draco. She found him alone, waiting for her in a tiny compartment that only seated two.

He didn't speak, just motioned for her to sit down.

She had no further instructions, so she sat stiffly, waiting. She could feel the train rumble to a stop, and still Draco made no move. He sat with his head slightly bowed, and his eyes locked on the window.

_My family_, the real Ginny was screaming, _he's taking me away. Oh gods, what is he going to do to me?_

Finally Draco stood to his feet and cleared his throat. "I have our luggage." He wrapped one arm around her waist, and there was a slight jolt and noisy pop as they apparated.

It wasn't until he took the curse off of her that Ginny fully understood what was going on. The past 24 hours were a hazy dream in which she could recollect very little. She vaguely recalled the evening before and the train ride home. Her clearest memory was still fuzzy, but she could remember Draco using silencing and locking charms on the room she was now in. Draco was sitting on the edge of the great bed, rubbing his head.

"What are you doing?" she asked, her knees buckling under the sudden weight and ability to support herself.

"I just want to keep you safe," Draco muttered, as if talking to himself and standing up.

As Ginny's senses came back to her, fear welled up in her chest. She shoved past him and yanked on the handle of the door. It didn't open. "What in the bloody hell do you think you're doing?" she screamed.

Draco stepped back and raised his hands. "I'm trying to help, okay? I'm trying to keep you alive!"

"By putting me under the controlling curse? By kidnapping me?" The volume of her screams made her own ears ache.

"I'm going to let you calm down," he told him, stepping away from her and towards a door she hadn't noticed. "This is for your own good."

"No! You can't do this to me!" Tears she didn't want him to see were streaming down her cheeks and she could do nothing to stop them. "Please, I won't tell, I swear!"

He shook his head, his face unreadable. "You can't go. You'll die."

"I'm going to die here, aren't I?" she sobbed.

He stepped through the door and was gone.

Ginny braced herself against the wall, trembling with rage and fear and fright. What was he going to do to her? How was she going to get out? As she rocked against the wall, wiping away tears, there was a small pop and then a shaky house elf stood before her.

"Missus?" she said apprehensively, "I is Sully. Master sends me here to help you."

Ginny stared down at the little elf. It wasn't fair to take it out on the elf; she was obviously scared already. "I don't need help," Ginny said finally. "I just need to get out of here."

"How about yous get a bath?" Sully suggested. "A warm long bath is nice."

Ginny slowly sunk down the wall until she was sitting on the carpet. She wasn't sure if she should scream in fear or laugh with the absurdity of it all. She didn't know if she would have more success in trying to escape now, or waiting and calculating a plan. "I don't want a bath. But thank you."

"Very well," Sully bowed. "I's be bring your dinner shortly miss, and if you needs me before then, you just pull this rope." She motioned to a long dark green cord hanging near the large bed, and then apparated away.

Ginny scrambled to her feet and again tried the door behind her. If refused to open. She moved to the door Draco had exited and yanked on it, beat it, and kicked it, but it stayed shut. The third door opened into a large closet, and the fourth into a large, windowless bathroom. She went to the large window in the room that overlooked a garden, and found that it too was sealed and unbreakable. She threw herself on the bed in frustration and began to cry freely.

The house elf brought her a dinner tray with a large piece of broiled fish, potatoes, steamed vegetables, a thick slab of bread, and a crystal dish containing strawberries and cream. She poked at the food listlessly, her eyes painfully swollen with her tears.

She attempted to swallow a fork full of the meat, and found herself gagging on it. Instead she drank all the wine in her goblet and asked for two refills before exhaustion won and she fell into a fitful sleep.


	2. Get It Over With

Ginny counted three days passing through the window before Draco returned. She spent the entire first day and a good part of the second day trying to get out of the room. It was impossible. She spent the third day livid, making plans to kill Draco Malfoy if that was the only way out of the room. Sully brought her three meals each day, and a snack of some sort before in the evening, but she could hardly eat, as it was only her rage that was keeping her up.

The third day, Draco brought her dinner. He set a large tray down before her without speaking, then snapped his fingers and instructed the two house elves who appeared to put the bags on the bed.

Ginny had spent the day practicing what she was going to say to him, and now that he was here in front of her, she just wanted to throttle him.

"I assumed you were about the same size as my mother, so I had her seamstress make you some clothes," he told her without looking at her.

"What are you playing at, Draco?" she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.

"I thought you might like to change clothes," he replied evenly.

"That's not what I mean. Why am I here? Why not let me go warn my family?"

"Warning them won't do any good. You said it, where would your family go to hide?"

"The Order could hide us," she said desperately. "They've got hiding places. I've got to warn them!"

"You seriously think the Dark Lord doesn't have his own spies in the Order?"

"Well," she fumbled, his words surprising her, "I'm sure, but-"

"Listen to me! They want Potter, of course, but they want your family first. Not only would it hurt the Order, it would crush Potter. I was a fool to warn you. This is the only way."

"I'd rather be dead with them, than alive without them!" she spat at him.

Draco finally looked at her, giving her a long look, a look one might give to a child who does not understand the seriousness of what is going on. "This is your home now," he said finally. "You aren't leaving."

Ginny tried to count to ten, tried to beg herself to be reasonable, and screamed, "You sodding arse! You can't kidnap me!" She picked up her dinner tray and flung it at him. "I hate you! I hate you!"

He barely managed to duck the tray and its contents, and in one move he crossed the room and grabbed her by the wrists. "I'm risking my own life to save yours. I don't expect you to believe me now, but soon you will."

She struggled to break free, refusing to let his words hurt her, refusing to believe him. "I hate you! You bloody bastard. You're probably going to kill me, aren't you?"

Draco's ice colored eyes bore into hers as she struggled fruitlessly to get away. "You have no idea. Why the fuck should I help you? I have no reason to, but I am. Think about that."

"Let go!" Fear was wrapping its humid body tightly around her. His eyes were narrowed and piercing, and his jaw was set. She was positive he was going to kill her, or slap her at the very least. It was hard to breathe with him pressed so painfully into her, and she strained uselessly to break his grip.

Instead he tightened his grip on her wrists and shoved her into the wall. "You're not leaving. Not unless this war ends or I die, which ever comes first."

"I hope you die!" she spat, straining against him uselessly.

He let out a cold, hard laugh. "Ironic, don't you think?"

"Just get it over with you fucking Death Eater! Rape me and kill me or whatever you have planned. Just do it!"

His grip on her wrists became so tight she couldn't feel her hands, and he knocked her head against the wall as he trembled with a rage so violent she could feel it radiating from his skin.

_Oh gods_, she quaked. _He is going to kill me_.

After a moment he let out a sigh of disgust and released her wrists, shoving her back slightly as he did. "One day you'll thank me."

"For what?" she screamed at his retreating back. "For kidnapping me? For keeping me away from my family so you can kill them?"

The door snapped shut behind him and she was left in silence. She stood in the stillness and rubbed her wrists, concentrating her anger on the furious red marks his fingers had left, and refusing to allow tears to fall.

Several minutes later Sully popped into the room bearing another tray of food and meekly placing it before her. "Master said to brings you this," she nearly whispered before beginning to clean the mess Ginny had made.

"How do I get out of here?" Ginny said softly, collapsing to the edge of the bed.

"Sully is a good elf, Missus," the elf said flatly. "I has always served my Master since he was a brand new child."

"Do you know why he brought me here?"

"To keeps you safe."

"But my family, I need to warn them!"

"I don't knows about that," the elf said, standing up straight. "Shall I draws your bath?" Without waiting for an answer she quickly went to the restroom and Ginny could hear the water.

She hadn't bathed since she'd been locked in the room, and although Ginny refused to believe that her situation was permanent, she decided that a bath would be good. Maybe it would clear her mind.

Sully gathered her soiled clothes with disdain and then helped Ginny into the bath. "Now you must eat tonight, Missus," she intoned. "Master says so."

"Sod him," Ginny muttered.

Sully looked fearful. "You must."

Ginny eyed the elf and hoped Draco wouldn't take her actions out of the creature. "Alright then," she sighed.

"I will gets you some cream for your wrists. They will be as good as new."

"No," Ginny shook her head. "Leave them. I need to remember why I hate him."

Sully shook her head disapprovingly and asked, "Will there be anything else tonight?"

"No. I'm fine, thanks."

Ginny sunk lower in the tub as the house elf disappeared, hot tears burning at her eyes. She wasn't going to stay here. She was not. If she had to kill Draco Malfoy with her bare hands she would, but she wasn't staying. The tears slipped down her cheeks as her adrenaline left her and the memories of Draco's actions burned into her mind. It hurt to flex her wrists and she could see the bruises forming, deep purples and browns.

****

Ginny didn't see Draco for days after that. She watched out her window as the days passed and grew longer. The tree branches outside her window seemed to bow underneath the weight of the humidity and the ferocity of the sun.

Every day she climbed out of bed with a fresh resolve to find a way out of the room, out of the house, and back to her family.

Every day she had failed.

Every day she racked her brain for a plan of escape.

Nothing worked.

That morning, when she had woken, she hadn't jumped out of the bed and begun pacing the room, trying to doors and windows. They would be locked, just like always. Instead, she stayed in the bed, staring up at the ceiling and wondering what Draco planned to do to her. She wondered if he really was going to just keep her prison or if he had other things in mind.

Instead she reached behind the headboard of the bed and made the 42nd tick mark in the wall. She'd remembered to count the days 42 times. The other days were lost.

She thought about her mum and her father, wondering if they were still searching for her. She wondered how long it had taken them to realize she wasn't coming home. She wondered if anyone had any clue at all about where she was.

Ginny refused to get out of bed when Sully came bearing breakfast, stating flatly that there was no point. "I have no where to go. I'm staying here."

In the afternoon Sully returned, bringing lunch and a great stack of books. "Master says to brings these for you."

Ginny stared at the books but did not move. She had no interest in books.

She slept. Weak from hunger and exhausted from fear, she slept. She lost track of the days and saw no one but Sully. When she was awake, she lay in the bed and stared out the window, getting out of bed only for wobbly trips to the loo.

****

Ginny didn't actually see Draco, but she knew he was there. She found single flowers lying on the bedside table, new bubbles and salts for the bath, strange Muggle toiletries since she no longer had her wand, and more books. One morning she woke to find a strange, flat contraption mounted on the wall across from her bed. Sully explained that it was a Muggle television and showed her how it worked. Ginny left it on continually, craving the faux human interaction.

She surmised that she had been there for about two months when she finally turned off the telly and dragged herself out of bed. She rang for Sully to bring her toast to nibble on, and then took a bath while Sully nearly smothered her with attention, pleased she was no longer in the bed.

Ginny grimaced as she caught a glance of herself in the mirror, dark circles under her eyes and her ribs clearly visible through her skin.

Sully shook her head as she toweled Ginny dry. "You needs to be eating."

Ginny didn't answer right away. "Can you glamour these circles away?"

"Yes, Missus."

The clothes Draco had brought Ginny hung loosely on her, so Sully took up the seams as Ginny attempted to do something with her hair. "Oh sod it!" she sighed emptily, smacking the brush down on the table. "Why am I doing this? He's going to say no!"

Sully didn't answer, but she picked up the brush and secured it into a loose ponytail.

"Is he here?"

"Master?" the elf squeaked.

"Uh huh."

"Yes, he is home."

Ginny glanced one more time in the mirror. "Will you ask him to come in here?"

"Yes Missus." Sully disappeared with a pop.

Ginny sagged against the window, exhaustion taking over her body. She refused to give in, and sat in the tall stiff chair at the vanity, but Sully didn't return. Finally, after what felt like hours, Ginny gave up and crawled into her bed, unwanted tears threatening to burn her eyes. He wasn't coming. She should have known.

When she woke, the light from the setting sun cast strange orange shadows across her room and it took her a moment to realize that Draco was sitting there. His eyelids were heavy as he looked at her, and she noticed that he held his right arm away from him as if it were painful.

He looked . . . broken.

Suddenly she lost her nerve. "Are you okay?"

He didn't answer, just glared at her and grimaced.

Panic welled up inside her. "Is it my family?"

"No," his voice came out in a hiss.

Slowly, carefully, Ginny rose from her bed and edged her way to where he sat, and knelt in front of him. Fleetingly she wondered why he wore the button down shirts in the middle of the summer. She began to reach for him tentatively. Her fingers trembled as she rolled up his sleeve until she saw it.

Burned into his pale flesh was a horrifying, charred black skull; she could see the tender pink skin around it, signifying that it was new. She could almost smell the fear and pain and burning skin. She had to look away.


	3. Questions VS Courage

CHAPTER 3

"Don't ever do that again," Draco hissed as she turned her head away.

"Why . . . why would you do that?" she quaked, unable to control her trembling.

He stared at her, his expression strangely curious. "This is what I was born to do."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, tears escaping her eyes.

He let out a cold, bitter laugh. "You're sorry? I have you locked away here, and you're sorry?"

She had no words for him, so she sat still, letting the tears roll.

"What did you want?" he asked after a long silence. "Sully said you called for me."

"Nothing," she shook her head.

"It was something," he said crossly.

"No, I was just, just lonely."

Gradually, Draco stood to his feet and reached for her hand. "Come here."

She stood to her feet and let him lead her to the small couch near the window. He sat down next to her and reached for the telly remote. They sat together, watching it until Ginny fell asleep again.

When she woke she was in the bed, wearing one of the nighties Draco had brought her. She hoped it was Sully who had changed her. He came back that night, and the next, and the next, and they continued their ritual of sitting in silence and watching the telly.

"Have you heard . . . anything about my, my family?" Ginny dared to ask one evening.

"No," he answered shortly without looking at her.

"Nothing? The De-, they haven't said anything?"

"No. They haven't."

Ginny chewed nervously at her thumb nail. "Why don't you say we?"

"What?" he snapped, finally dragging his eyes away from the program to glare at her.

"You said they. Aren't you one of them now?"

"What fucking difference does it make to you?"

"Sorry." Ginny stood to her feet and crossed the room to her bed, yanking back the covers and sliding inside.

The noises from the telly tried to fill up the silence in the room.

"What are you doing?" he asked finally.

She didn't answer.

"Hello?" he barked.

She heard him rise to his feet, and felt the bed move as he sat at the edge.

"Why are you asking me about that?"

"What else am I going to talk to you about?" she demanded, sitting up. "There's not too much we have in common. I guess we could always talk about you kidnapping me!"

Draco's face contorted and she wondered for a second if she had gone too far. "Why don't you not talk at all?"

"Because I get bored!" she shouted. "And lonely. It really sucks being locked up in here for months and months!"

He had no reply.

"So forgive me if I ask you questions that you don't like!"

"Just make sure you don't do it again," he said spitefully.

"Get out!" she yelled. "Get out!"

"This is my house. I don't have to go anywhere."

"I hate you." She grabbed the only thing within reach, a small vase, and threw it at him. "I hate you!"

He ducked the vase and was on top of her in an instant, one knee pinning her chest to the bed, one hand clasping both wrists firmly above her head, and his other hand clenching her jaw so tightly that her teeth were cutting into the sides of her mouth. "You need to learn to control your temper, Weasley," he snarled. "One more incident like that and you won't have the things you have now. You could have it a lot worse."

"Please, get off," she gasped. "I can't breathe."

"Understand?"

She nodded her head the little that she could, but he didn't move. "Please, I can't breathe!" The room was beginning to fade from her vision and her brain was barely processing anything. "Please!"

At last Draco rolled off of her, and she gasped for air as he stomped from the room. He paused for a moment and then raised his fist, and smashed it into the wall.

Ginny sank lower into her bed and she wondered if he wished he had been hitting her.

****

He stayed away.

At first Ginny was glad, fearful of him, but as the sunlit days grew shorter and the leaves on the trees turned from green to golds and oranges, she missed him; she missed having a person. She craved human interaction, and the telly was of no use. Finally she broke down and asked Sully to beg him to come back.

"He gaves me no answer," Sully squeaked, and Ginny thought he would never return. She went back to her habit of lying in bed without eating, sleeping the time away.

The days were short and gray when Draco returned, bringing a dinner tray. "Sully says you're not eating," he told her flatly, his voice waking her up.

She stared at him, afraid to say anything that would anger him and cause him to leave her alone again. He seemed thinner than she remembered, but maybe she was wrong, as his arms still appeared sculpted. His ice colored eyes were haunted, and she noticed that he wasn't wearing a button down shirt. For the first time, she saw him in a thin undershirt and worn denim trousers. She hadn't been aware that a Malfoy would own such clothes.

Ginny struggled to sit up and found that she couldn't; the week of consuming nearly nothing had left her vulnerable and exposed.

Draco looked at her with obvious disgust written across his pristine face, before helping her into a sitting position. "You're going to eat now," he muttered once she was situated.

Ginny nodded, afraid to try the rich looking bowl of chowder in front of her, but even more scared to contradict him.

Draco moved until he was sitting directly in front of her and handed her a goblet of water to drink, and then dipped the spoon into the bowl and lifted it to her lips.

The chowder was excellent, as all the food she had been served was, but her stomach rolled even at the small spoonful that she had swallow. She took another tentative sip of the water and prayed that everything would stay down.

Draco lifted a second spoonful to her lips, and then a third, and on the fourth, Ginny's stomach could handle it no more and before she could stop herself, she leaned to the side and retched.

Draco jumped back in surprise and then immediately rang for Sully while Ginny began to cry.

"She's sick," Draco told Sully stiffly.

Sully glanced at the situation and said timidly, "Master, if I mays?"

Draco gave a sharp, rigid nodded.

"I thinks that she needs a light broth. She has not eaten all week."

"Fine," Draco told her.

"I'm sorry," Ginny sobbed. "I'm sorry."

Draco shook his head. "Sully will take care of this and I will get you a bath. Then we'll try some broth."

"Okay," she wept, angry at her weakness and mortified at her feebleness.

Draco stood and went to the bathroom and moments later she heard the water running. Sully quickly snapped her fingers and cleaned Ginny's mess and then removed the dinner tray. The elf then climbed onto the bed and stood over Ginny.

"Lift up your arms, Missus," she instructed.

"What?" Ginny whispered, wiping at her tears.

"Go on now," she commanded. "You cannot bathes with clothes on."

"But I'm-"

"They is dirty anyways."

With another snap of the elf's fingers, Ginny found herself very naked. She yanked the blanket over her chest as Draco reentered the room.

"I'll carry you," he instructed.

"No," she tried to protest. "I don't have any clothes."

"I don't think you'll have any in the bath either," he muttered.

"No, I, please-"

"Fine," he shrugged with indifference. "Sully, get her robe."

Sully simply snapped her fingers a third time, and Ginny was wearing the robe. Draco tentatively helped her from the bed. She was determined to walk on her own, to stop making a fool of herself in front of him, but her legs had other plans. She felt absolutely ridiculous, as her legs gave away the second time and she stumbled, clinging desperately to Draco's arm. She had never in her life been so vulnerable and pathetic, and she had brought it on herself by refusing to eat. She bit the inside of her lips and tightened her grip on Draco. She would not allow him to carry her to the bath.

It felt like an eternity of baby steps, but when she finally made it, she lowered herself to the side of the tub and let out a small laugh. "Oh gods. I did it."

"Can you get it?" Draco asked woodenly.

Ginny nodded, hoping he didn't notice that she was gasping for air. "Are you . . . going out?"

"No."

"Oh." There was no way she was allowing him to see her naked. Absolutely no way, especially now that she was so skeletal.

"I'll turn around."

Ginny eyed his back before cautiously removing the robe and sliding into the bubble filled tub.

The large bathroom was silent except for the occasional movement of the water.

****

After her bath, Draco fed Ginny her broth, and allowed her to go back to sleep. When she woke, the room was dark, except for the bluish glow of the telly.

"How do you feel?" Draco's words floated to her from across the room.

"Okay," she answered quietly.

He crossed the room and pulled the cord to signal Sully. "Bring us dinner," he commanded when she appeared.

Ginny sat still at the edge of the bed, unsure of what to do or say.

"It's snowing," Draco told her after a moment.

"It is?"

He nodded. "First snow of the winter."

Ginny's eyes moved to the large window. Sure enough, in the light of the telly, she could see the silver flakes falling past. "What month is it?"

"Almost November."

"Oh." _I've been here six months._

"Here you is, Master," Sully appeared, balancing a large tray of food. "I bring broth for the Missus."

"Thank you," he replied shortly, placing the tray on a table.

Ginny forced herself to sit at the table and methodically dip her spoon in the bowl and raise it to her lips. _Six months . . . _

She barely noticed Draco sitting across from her, and started when he spoke. "I have arranged for you to freely roam the Manor and the grounds when you are ready."

She froze, the spoon hovering over the bowl.

"My parents are not here anymore. Mother never liked this place and convinced father to go back to the Manor in Wiltshire."

"Where is this place?"

"Near Stonehenge."

There was a short silence. "Thank you," she said.

Draco didn't lock her door anymore, but it was nearly a week before Ginny felt strong enough to venture from her room. Draco showed her the dining rooms, the kitchen, several different living areas, guest rooms, the library, his office, the gardens, and the stables. It was a magnificent house, even if several of the portraits in the gallery sneered at her and clucked their tongues at Draco.

One afternoon, when the sky was clear, but the air was icy cold, Ginny attempted to leave the grounds. She walked away from the Manor in what she perceived to be a straight line, but managed to end up exactly where she started. She attempted it several more times when Draco was gone, but the result was always the same. The fourth time, when Sully entered the foyer to take her coat, the elf shook her little head sadly.

"Have you not got it figured, Missus? There are many, many charms and wards and curses on this Manor. You cannot ever leave."

Ginny nodded slowly. "I had to try."

Usually Draco was at the Manor for dinner, but occasionally he wasn't. He and Ginny dined at the large table in the nicest of the dining rooms, and when he wasn't there, Ginny took her dinner in the library. They had little to talk about, but it was comforting to know that she wasn't completely alone.

One gray morning, Ginny woke to find Sully in her room, setting up a miniature Christmas tree.

"What are you doing?" Ginny asked with a yawn.

"It's almost Christmases," the elf reminded her. "We is decorating the Manor today."

Ginny paused, midway to her armoire. In the month or so since Draco had allowed her to rove freely through the Manor, she had given very little thought to her family or the fact that she was indeed, a prisoner. Dear gods, her family. Where were they? Were they even alive? "Sully?"

"Yes, Missus?"

"Do we have any copies of the Daily Prophet?"

"Not for you Missus."

Ginny's heart sank. So she wasn't allowed that either.

Draco was present at dinner, and so she summoned all her courage. "Draco?"

"Yes?" He glanced up in mild surprise.

"Please don't be upset with me, but . . . I have to know." She paused and swallowed a large breath of air. "Do you know anything about my family?"

Draco was silent, and she began to wish she had never opened her mouth. "I know some, yes," he nodded finally.

"Are they safe?"

"I doubt it."

She bit her lip. "Are they alive?"

"Currently, yes."

A ridiculous swelling of hope surged in her chest. If her family had been in danger since at least the summer, and was still alive, then she was confident they would stay that way. "Thank you."


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4 Christmas Massacre

The new confirmation that her family was alive kept her mood up even during the Holidays. The elves had decorated the entire Manor until even Ginny could feel the Holiday spirit surrounding her. No matter which room she entered, the library or the dining room, her bedroom or the loo, she was encircled with trees and fairy lights and garland and mistletoe. Of course, it was nothing like the holidays at the Burrow, where none of the decorations matched because they'd been bought or made over the years, or where each room smelled like delicious food. It was more formal, and less personal, but she couldn't help liking it. She'd made the mistake of standing under the mistletoe, and blushed furiously when a slightly intoxicated Draco gave her a small peck on the cheek, and found that she'd liked that as well.

On Christmas Eve, Draco had the elves serve them wine with their meal; he drank it nearly every night, but she never joined him. The wine loosened her mind and her mouth, and it was the best time Ginny'd had since she'd been brought to the Manor.

They talked through dinner, and perhaps it was the wine, or perhaps it was the fact that she was growing calloused, but the cheerful talk of their family's Christmas traditions didn't dampen her spirits. They settled in the smallest of the parlors, sprawled informally on the couch beneath the Christmas tree, and half way through her third glass of wine, Ginny realized that she'd had a glass too many. The festive room grew hazy as she tried to hold up her end of the conversation.

She could see Draco's mouth moving, and the blond hair that fell carelessly into his eyes. His shirt sleeves were rolled to his elbows, it was untucked, and his tie had been loosened considerably.

"Why'd you do it?" she slurred, interrupting whatever he had been talking about. "Why am I here?"

There was a long silence, but she was too intoxicated to care.

"Tell me. It's Christmas, I'm drunk, and I'm not going anywhere. So tell me."

"To keep you safe," he answered finally, his voice clipped.

"Bullshit," she shot back, the words running together.

"Because no one else is ever going to have you." His voice was smooth and hard as steel, and his expression had firmed into a mask of an indifferent sneer, but Ginny pressed on, the wine soaking through her brain.

"Now we're getting somewhere," she slurred, pouring a fourth glass of wine. "Making progress."

"Maybe you should go to bed."

"Maybe you should tell me more."

"What else is there to say?"

"Why can't anyone else have me?"

"Because I have you," he growled, his teeth clenched and his eyes narrow.

"And that's why you brought me here?" she asked carelessly, finishing her glass and filling a new one. "Cause you want me? Tell me this. Do you want to kill me? Or do you want to fuck me?"

She slurped down her fifth glass while Draco watched her with eyes that could kill. "You're not answering."

"You are drunk. This was a bad idea."

"No, no. I think it was a good idea. Truth serum," she giggled, holding up her glass. "Yup. You know, you could have just asked. Instead of kidnapping me, I mean."

"You wouldn't even listen to me when I tried to warn you," he snapped.

"Because you were such a prat," she garbled. "If you liked me, you could have approached it the traditional way, you know."

"Who said I like you?" he fumed.

The last thing she remembered before passing out was watching Draco clutch his arm.

When she woke on Christmas morning, she was surprised to find that she didn't have a hang over, but was even more surprised to see a stack of gifts at the foot of her bed. She rubbed her eyes and realized that it wasn't really even morning. She climbed from her bed and pressed her face against the window. The sun was barely beginning to rise.

An idea occurred to her, and quickly she wrapped herself in a heavy coat and stuck her feet into her slippers. She tiptoed down the hall, down the stairs, and out the front door. Several minutes later she saw him coming, the owl bearing the Daily Prophet. She deposited the few coins that she'd swiped from the library into the owl's pouch and took the paper.

Ignoring the cold, and the new flakes that had begun to fall, she knelt to the ground and devoured the paper.

The headline on the front page was practically screaming attack. During the night, the Death Eaters had attacked several different locations, and survivors were few and far between. There had been an attack in Hogsmead, one in downtown London, and another in the country side of Faerie. Ginny felt sick. The houses in the photo were still burning, two people she didn't know frantically running across the grounds. But there was nothing about her family. Nothing specific, anyways.

_At press time_, the article stated, _the death toll was 54 and still climbing. The biggest loss. The most devastating. So far, 62 injured. Everything is gone_, one witch was quoted saying. _My family, my house. How could they do this, and on Christmas Eve? _

Ginny stomped into the house and up to the second floor. She headed for the door she had never opened, the door Draco had passed by when he had given her a tour of the Manor.

She watched her fingers reach for the doorknob, unsure of what to expect, not knowing if there were any wards placed on the room. Cautiously she turned the knob and pushed the door open. Draco's room.

She stepped inside, taking in the dark green décor, the enormous bed and desk, the huge bureau, the oversized chairs, and finally, the sleeping form in the bed.

Her heart caught in her throat, but another glance at the paper, and her resolve returned. Ginny marched to his bed, ready to rip him to shreds. But she paused as she reached the edge of his bed. There he was, sleeping, looking like some beautiful depiction of a fallen angel, his hair splayed messily across his pillow, his silver eyelashes floating at his cheeks. She realized with a start that his chest was bare, and then hated herself for admiring it; the way it was so clearly defined, smooth and pale, just like his arms. The way he was sleeping, she couldn't see the Dark Mark.

How easy it would be to kill him.

She could simply smother him with his pillow, or crawl across his bed and wrap her hands around her neck and refuse to let go until he had stopped moving. Better yet, she could simply pick up his wand, which lay unprotected on his nightstand. Then, tomorrow when the owl came with the newspaper, she would give it a letter for her family, telling them where she was. Someone would break through the wards, and then she would be safe.

It could actually work.

Instead she felt a tear falling down her cheek and was surprised to find it there.

"Did you do this?" she asked, sitting at the edge of his bed.

Instantly his eyes opened. "What are you doing?"

"Did you?" She laid the paper down so he could see it. "Did you want me to pass out so I wouldn't know what you were doing?"

"How did you get that?" he demanded, his voice brutal and severe.

"I waited for the owl," she admitted, another tear falling. "Don't blame the elves."

"You cannot be in here," he roared at her. "I gave you the entire bloody Manor, but this is my room!"

"I just want to know," she choked, trying to subdue her tears. "Why do you do this?"

"Because this is what I do!" he raged, grabbing her by the arms and shaking her. "I chose to dedicate my life to the Dark Lord, and if he wants us to massacre Muggles and wizards on Christmas Eve, I will!"

Ginny's head lolled back and forth uselessly as he shook her violently. She couldn't stop the tears. "I could have killed you," she gasped. "I thought about it, but I didn't."

"And I could kill you now," he snarled, giving her a violent shove off the bed. He picked up his wand and pointed it at her crumpled shape.

Ginny glanced up in shock, taking in his wand and the fact that he had just thrown her off the bed. She turned her face from him and cried harder, pulling her legs up to her chest.

When she had cried until she could cry no more, Draco was still standing above her and she was still alive. "I'm sorry," she said finally. "I won't come in your room again. And I won't get the paper." She pushed herself off the floor. "I just don't understand."

Draco lowered his wand, but continued to glare at her.

"Last night, I mostly had a nice time. I enjoyed talking to you. But I guess you're two different people, aren't you?"

She couldn't bear to see his face as she left his room, but as she reached the doorway she called softly, "Thank you for the presents."

Ginny went back to her room and sat on the couch, staring blankly at her gifts, wondering if he really expected her to enjoy them.

Sully didn't come with breakfast, and by mid-afternoon, Ginny had grown weary of pacing the floor and she was hungry. She slunk down to the kitchen, hoping to avoid Draco. She crept into the kitchen and had just pulled the refrigerator door open when Sully spoke.

"Master, he is waiting for you," she informed Ginny, her tone rather cool.

"I'm sorry," Ginny mumbled, "I didn't mean to get you-"

"He is in the dinings room," Sully interrupted.

"Oh. Okay."

Ginny forced herself into the dining room. Draco stood to his feet when she entered, pulling out her chair.

"I was hoping you would be hungry soon," he told her calmly.

"I'm sorry," she managed to say, inwardly cursing herself. She was the one who had been kidnapped. She should not be apologizing.

He waved his hand to brush her apology aside. "Have you opened your gifts?"

"No." She stared at her plate as two of the kitchen elves served them.

"I'd like you to. They are for you."

"Okay."

"Look," he said with a sigh. "I apologize for my behavior. I didn't want you to find out about that or anything else that I do away from here."

Ginny just nodded, taking a careful sip of her drink.

"I realize that . . . the circumstances that you are here under are not . . . desirable, but you're here. And I'd like it if we got along. So I think we should put all this behind us. The knowledge won't change anything."

Ginny glanced up at him, meeting his eyes, searching for sincerity, and finding . . . emptiness. Her arms and neck still hurt from the violent shaking he had given her, and morbid flower like bruises had formed where his fingers had been. "Alright."


	5. The Healing Power of Time

CHAPTER 5

Several days after they had celebrated the New Year, Draco found Ginny in the library, curled on a lounge chair, and a copy of a Muggle book called Stardust in her hand. Reading the book, she had the sneaking suspicion that the author was not a Muggle at all, but a wizard or at the very least, a Squib.

"What's that?" she asked as he sat in front of her. His expression was mournful, and he held a piece of parchment in his hand.

"I didn't have anything to do with this," he said finally.

"With what?" she demanded, sitting straight up and staring at him.

He didn't answer, but bowed his head.

"With what? Oh gods, what is it?"

He handed her the parchment, and she realized it was the front cover of the Daily Prophet.

_Woman's Body Found_, the caption screamed. _Identified as Molly Weasley._

Ginny let out a strangled gasp and clapped her hand to her mouth.

"Don't read anymore," Draco begged quietly. "Don't make it worse."

Ginny shook her head and ignored him, her eyes unable to stop reading. _Molly Weasley, wife of Minister official and Order member Arthur Weasley, who was reported missing last Wednesday, has been found. Her body was found in a dumpster in Knockturn Alley, showing relatively few signs of struggle. _

Ginny suddenly couldn't read anymore. She dropped the paper to the floor and buried her face in her hands. After a few moments, she felt Draco's presence beside her and flinched slightly as he placed an arm across her back.

"I didn't know, Gin. I didn't."

For days, Ginny stayed in her room, sometimes sobbing, sometimes remembering. Draco stayed with her, feeding her and attempting to offer some sort of hollow comfort.

"Why would they do this?" she finally asked him. "Why my mum?"

Draco didn't answer.

"Why Draco?" she demanded. "You know! You're one of them!"

"Stop it, Ginny." His face was darkened with shadows and his expression was eerily blank.

"You do! You know! Just tell me! Tell me that the rest of my family is dead!"

"Stop," he commanded, his voice winded and low.

"No! You know why! You're one of them!"

"Ginny-"

"Don't touch me!" she screamed, jerking his arm away from her. "I hate you! I hate you because you brought me here, because you made my family think I am dead, because you are one of them! You are a Death Eater Draco, and I hate you!"

This time he didn't leave or punch the wall or shake her; instead he sat silently, his eyes focused on the telly. "I'm not leaving," he said after a long silence.

Ginny drew her knees to her chest and rocked back and forth. "Oh gods. No, no, no, no. Mummy, my mummy." She repeated her sobbing mantra until she had nearly lost her voice, crying for her mum.

Draco tucked her in as she fell asleep, and she whispered to him, "My mummy thought I was dead and now she is."

****

By the time the first flowers started to bloom on the trees outside her window, and Ginny traded out the heavy black velvet winter cloak Draco had given her for Christmas for the lighter green cloak, she didn't wake in the morning with a physical pain in her chest. She didn't burst into tears when she thought of her family. She remembered to eat and drink and bathe. But it wasn't the same.

If Draco had told her when he gave her the news clipping, that in time, the pain would fade and life would become bearable again, she would not have believed him. But it had.

It was still painful, it still hurt. She still cried, but it was different. She wanted to curse time for making her grow numb to the news of her own mum's death.

"How do you feel?" Draco asked, his eyebrows rising in surprise. She hadn't been present at the dinner table with him since he'd given her the clipping.

"Like a traitor," she muttered, sitting down heavily.

"What do you mean?" he asked carefully.

"Like I don't care about my family. Like it doesn't matter that my mother is dead!"

Draco remained silent.

"I'm not a bad person," she nearly shouted, causing the elf who brought her wine to flinch. "So why don't I feel bad?"

Draco didn't answer until he was sure she wanted an answer.

"Well? What's wrong with me?"

"You're not a bad person," he answered casually, as if discussing the weather. "You're just a person. Time changes things. You cannot possibly grieve forever. You'd die as well."

"But I should be! My mother is dead!" Tears glittered in her eyes, but they didn't fall.

"She is. And if you punish yourself, she still won't come back. It's pointless."

They finished the dinner in silence.

After, Draco had his elf bring them a light, sweet wine to the small, cozier drawing room. Ginny stared into space while Draco scanned the Prophet, and looked over his business papers. The silence was fine with him. The fire burning in the fireplace was unnecessary, but it gave the room a deceiving sense of warmth and family and coziness. He was just glad that Ginny was in here with him, not crying alone in her room.

The fire had burned low when he put away his paperwork and decided he was ready for bed. "You ready for bed, Gin?" he asked, noticing the now empty wine bottle beside her.

She shook her red head and mumbled, "I think I'll just sit here for a bit."

Draco extended his hand anyways. "I'll tuck you in."

Wobbly and unsure of herself, Ginny took his hand and allowed him to pull her to her feet. Bottle of wine aside, she didn't fail to notice his arm around her waist, and his hand still clasping hers as they climbed the stairs.

Instead of calling Sully to turn down the bed, Draco eased her onto her loveseat, and pulled the blankets down himself. Then he turned and pulled an emerald colored gown from her drawer.

_Perhaps_, she thought as Draco knelt before her and began to unfasten the clasps of her blouse, _I should protest. What would he do if I told him no?_ But she didn't. It wasn't as if he'd seen her undressed before. And even though she knew she could refuse, she tried to tell herself that he had brought her here, and he could do whatever he wanted to her. But she knew he wouldn't. If she said stop, he would stop. So she remained silent while Draco carefully removed her blouse, and then her bra, sliding it down her arms, and slowly eased down the zipper of her skirt. She didn't move from the couch, sitting perfectly still in her knickers, and didn't fail to notice that he hesitated for the slightest moment before helping her into her nightgown, his eyes sweeping across her bare body.

Ginny was almost asleep, curled against his warm, comforting body, when she heard him whisper.

"You're not a bad person," he whispered, kissing her cheek.

****

When she woke, he was gone, but the sun was already creeping high in the sky, and she knew he was at work. Ginny took a long hot bath, subconsciously trying to scrub her demons away, and Sully brought her breakfast to her there.

"Master say I is to take your measurements today," Sully informed her as she laid out Ginny's clothes.

"What for?" Ginny asked, scooping up bubbles in her hands and blowing them.

"I is to go to the seamstress for you. And I is bringing you a book so you can picks what you likes most." The elf laid a glossy catalog on the ledge of the tub.

Ginny felt what might have been a smile – if she hadn't of guiltily stopped it – creeping onto her lips as she picked up the book. Shopping. Almost a year of being locked away, and she still liked the idea of getting new clothes.

_Oh gods, almost a year_. She couldn't believe it.

"Sully?"

"Yes, missus?"

"What day is it?"

"Wednesday."

"And what month?"

Sully pursed her lips as if she wasn't going to tell. "April," she answered finally.

_Ten months. Ten months ago I thought I was going to be killed or raped. Instead, I'm bathing like a princess, eating my breakfast in the bath, picking out new clothes and trying_ not _to think about Draco. And my mother is dead._

The thought hurt, stabbing into her with a pain that was physical.

_But mum knows where I am now. She knows I'm safe_. It was silly, but Ginny instinctively looked at the ceiling. _I do love you mum. And really, it's not so bad here._

"Is you okay, missus?"

"I'm fine," Ginny smiled. "Better now, actually."

She leafed through the catalog until she had picked a new summer wardrobe, and then climbed out. "Sully?"

"Yes missus?"

"Will you ask the kitchen staff if we can have a nice dinner for Draco tonight?"

Sully gave her an odd look. "I will tells them."

"Thank you."

Ginny wandered around the Manor, exploring new rooms until she grew bored and plucked a book from the library and took it to the garden. She tired to read the book – interesting, really, a history of Muggle pirates – and tried to content herself with admiring the gardens, but she couldn't stop thinking about last night's kiss on the cheek.

_Why did he kiss me? Did he really think I was asleep? And his arm, no, it was my imagination. No, his arm was wrapped tightly around me._ She dropped the book on the lounge and began to pace the garden. _Why am I thinking about Draco? So what? He's the one who bloody kidnapped me! Technically, that means he can do whatever he wants to me. If he wants to kiss me when I'm asleep, he can._

Ginny was stretched out on the lounge, book opened across her chest, and allowing the sinking sun to soak into her face when Sully appeared.

"Missus, we haves your clothes now."

Ginny sat up. "Already?"

"Yes, missus. They is in your suite."

Ginny scrambled up and hurried up to her room. She threw the closet doors opened and found enough clothes to fill a store, hanging before her, all made especially for her. She tried several of them on, before settling on a rather low cut sapphire colored gown. _Funny,_ she thought, as Sully fastened the hook and eye clasps that ran up the back, _how I've gotten used to dressing up for dinner. With Draco. With the person who kidnapped me._ She tried to feel some sort of resentment or anger, but she couldn't find any. _How did this happen? I am supposed to hate him._

"We has prepared Master's favorite," Sully was saying, telling her the menu for dinner.

When Draco apparated home, Ginny couldn't help but notice the way his silver eyes became slightly warmer as he saw her.

Dinner was close to perfect, and just before she crawled into bed for the evening, she thanked Draco again for the clothes.

"It was nothing," he nodded dismissively. "Is there anything else you need or want?"

Ginny was suddenly overwhelmed with the unwelcomed feeling of being alone. She didn't want Draco to leave. _What has happened to me?_ she wondered desperately. _I'm supposed to hate him, not want him_. "Can you stay in here?"

Draco didn't answer. Instead, his eyebrow raised ever so slightly.

"I mean," she faltered, "just until I fall asleep."

"And then you want me to leave?"

Ginny's torn and conflicted feelings erupted again and she searched through them, confused and unsure. "No," she said, finally. "Stay."

"Stay?"

She wished he would stop repeating what she said and just make up his own mind. He was supposed to be in charge here, not her. She nodded. "I don't want to be alone."

They lay wordlessly in Ginny's enormous bed, their eyes focused on the Muggle telly, but Ginny was keenly aware of Draco's presence next to her. It didn't help that he was wearing only his boxer shorts, and she was wearing a lilac colored silky gown he had given her.

"Are you working tomorrow?" she asked quietly.

Draco nodded and she found herself watching out of the corner of her eye, the way his pale hair fluttered against her pillows. "Why?" His eyes remained on the telly.

"Just wondering."

"Do you not like being alone then?"

"No. Not really."

"And you think I should stay here with you?"

"No. Of course not."

But he didn't go to work the next day or the next, and when she finally asked him about it, he simply said, "It was time for a holiday."

"From work?"

He nodded.

"From . . . all your work?"

"There are some things in my life that I cannot take holiday from. You know that."

This time Ginny nodded, biting her lip and trying not to let her eyes go to the spot where she knew he was branded.

It was exactly one week after that Draco kissed her cheek again. This time Ginny rolled over in the bed to face him. Slowly, she brought her fingertips up to the spot his lips had been, searching his eyes, but not finding any answers.

She stretched her fingers out and carefully touched his lips. With her finger, she traced his lower lip back and forth, and then Draco kissed the tip of her finger.

Ginny drew her hand back and pressed the finger against her own lip, waiting for the remaining traces of his kiss to appear. Instead, Draco gently removed her hand and leaned closer, his lips brushing lightly across her own, once, twice, and then a third time before he drew back and closed his eyes.

The breath Ginny hadn't realized she was holding came out came out in little gasps. "Draco-"

"Sh, sh, sh," he whispered, his eyes still closed.

Ginny lay there in silence and Draco didn't open his eyes again. She let her own eyes fall shut only after she heard his soft, steady breathing, indicating he had fallen asleep.


End file.
